It Happened One Autumn
Page 31
“Lord Westcliff is hardly some fusty country gentleman,” Annabelle said. “He stays at his house in London quite often, and he’s invited everywhere. As for his superior manner—I suppose I can’t argue with that. Except to say that when one becomes better acquainted with him, and he lets his guard down, he can be very engaging.”
Lillian shook her head, her mouth hardening stubbornly. “If he is the only man this perfume will attract, I’ll stop wearing it.”
“Oh, don’t!” Annabelle’s eyes were suddenly sly and merry. “I should think you’d want to continue torturing him.”
“Yes, wear it,” Daisy urged. “We have no proof that the earl is the only man who will be seduced by your perfume.”
Lillian glanced at Evie, who wore a faint smile. “Shall I?” she asked, and Evie nodded. “Very well,” Lillian said. “If there is any chance of torturing Lord Westcliff, I should hate to miss it.” She pulled the vial from the pocket of her riding skirts. “Does anyone want to try some more?”
Annabelle looked appalled. “No. Keep it far, far away from me.”
The other two had already extended their hands. Lillian grinned and gave it to Daisy, who smoothed a few generous drops onto her wrists and tapped some behind her ears. “There,” Daisy said with satisfaction. “That’s twice as much as I used last night. If my true love is within a mile radius, he’ll come running for me.”
Evie received the bottle and applied some perfume to her throat. “Even if it doesn’t w-work,” she commented, “it’s a very pretty scent.”
Tucking the vial back into her pocket, Lillian stood from the table. She straightened the full chocolate-colored skirts of her riding habit, the longer side of which was caught up with a button to keep the hemline even while walking. On horseback, however, the skirt would be let down to drape attractively over the horse’s side and cover her legs properly. Her hair was caught up in neatly pinned braids at the nape of her neck, with a small feather-trimmed hat perched atop her head. “It’s time for the riders to gather at the stables.” She raised her brows as she asked, “Aren’t any of you going?”
Annabelle gave her a speaking glance. “Not after last evening.”
“I don’t ride well,” Evie said apologetically.
“Neither do Lillian and I,” Daisy said, leveling an admonishing stare at her older sister.
“Yes, I do,” Lillian protested. “You know quite well that I can ride as well as any man!”
“Only when you ride like a man,” Daisy retorted. Seeing Annabelle’s and Evie’s confusion, she explained. “Back in New York, Lillian and I rode astride most of the time. It’s much safer, really, and far more comfortable. Our parents didn’t mind as long as we rode on our own property, and wore strap-ankle breeches beneath our skirts. On the few occasions when we rode in the company of men, we went sidesaddle—but neither of us is very accomplished at it. Lillian is an excellent jumper when she rides astride. To my knowledge, however, she’s never tried a jump on sidesaddle. And the balance is completely different, and the muscles that one uses are not the same, and this jumping course at Stony Cross Park—”
“Hush, Daisy,” Lillian muttered.
“—is going to be very challenging, and I am fairly certain—”
“Shut up,” Lillian said in a fierce undertone.
“—that my sister is going to break her neck,” Daisy finished, returning Lillian’s glare with one of her own.
Annabelle looked troubled by the information. “Lillian, dear—”
“I have to go,” Lillian said curtly. “I don’t want to be late.”
“I know for a fact that Lord Westcliff’s jumping course is not appropriate for a novice.”
“I’m not a novice,” Lillian said through gritted teeth.
“There are some difficult jumps, with stiff bars at the top. Simon—that is, Mr. Hunt—took me through the course not long after it was built, and counseled me on how to approach the various jumps, and even then, it was very difficult. And if your riding position isn’t perfect, you can interfere with the free movement of the horse’s head and neck, and—”
“I’ll be fine,” Lillian interrupted coolly. “Heavens, Annabelle, I never knew you could be such a wet goose.”
Inured by now to the sharpness of Lillian’s tongue, Annabelle studied her defiant face. “Why is it necessary that you endanger yourself?”
“You should know by now that I never back down from a challenge.”
“And that is an admirable quality, dear,” came Annabelle’s smooth reply. “Unless you’re applying it to a pointless exercise.”
It was the closest to an argument that they had ever come. “Look,” Lillian said impatiently, “if I fall, you can give me a complete rake-down, and I’ll listen to every word. But no one is going to stop me from riding today…and therefore the only pointless exercise is for you to wag your jaw about it.”
Turning, she strode away, while she heard Annabelle’s exasperated exclamation behind her, and Daisy’s indistinct but resigned murmur, “…after all, it’s her neck to break…”
After Lillian’s departure, Daisy looked at Annabelle with an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry. She didn’t mean to sound sharp. You know how she is.”
Lillian shook her head, her mouth hardening stubbornly. “If he is the only man this perfume will attract, I’ll stop wearing it.”
“Oh, don’t!” Annabelle’s eyes were suddenly sly and merry. “I should think you’d want to continue torturing him.”
“Yes, wear it,” Daisy urged. “We have no proof that the earl is the only man who will be seduced by your perfume.”
Lillian glanced at Evie, who wore a faint smile. “Shall I?” she asked, and Evie nodded. “Very well,” Lillian said. “If there is any chance of torturing Lord Westcliff, I should hate to miss it.” She pulled the vial from the pocket of her riding skirts. “Does anyone want to try some more?”
Annabelle looked appalled. “No. Keep it far, far away from me.”
The other two had already extended their hands. Lillian grinned and gave it to Daisy, who smoothed a few generous drops onto her wrists and tapped some behind her ears. “There,” Daisy said with satisfaction. “That’s twice as much as I used last night. If my true love is within a mile radius, he’ll come running for me.”
Evie received the bottle and applied some perfume to her throat. “Even if it doesn’t w-work,” she commented, “it’s a very pretty scent.”
Tucking the vial back into her pocket, Lillian stood from the table. She straightened the full chocolate-colored skirts of her riding habit, the longer side of which was caught up with a button to keep the hemline even while walking. On horseback, however, the skirt would be let down to drape attractively over the horse’s side and cover her legs properly. Her hair was caught up in neatly pinned braids at the nape of her neck, with a small feather-trimmed hat perched atop her head. “It’s time for the riders to gather at the stables.” She raised her brows as she asked, “Aren’t any of you going?”
Annabelle gave her a speaking glance. “Not after last evening.”
“I don’t ride well,” Evie said apologetically.
“Neither do Lillian and I,” Daisy said, leveling an admonishing stare at her older sister.
“Yes, I do,” Lillian protested. “You know quite well that I can ride as well as any man!”
“Only when you ride like a man,” Daisy retorted. Seeing Annabelle’s and Evie’s confusion, she explained. “Back in New York, Lillian and I rode astride most of the time. It’s much safer, really, and far more comfortable. Our parents didn’t mind as long as we rode on our own property, and wore strap-ankle breeches beneath our skirts. On the few occasions when we rode in the company of men, we went sidesaddle—but neither of us is very accomplished at it. Lillian is an excellent jumper when she rides astride. To my knowledge, however, she’s never tried a jump on sidesaddle. And the balance is completely different, and the muscles that one uses are not the same, and this jumping course at Stony Cross Park—”
“Hush, Daisy,” Lillian muttered.
“—is going to be very challenging, and I am fairly certain—”
“Shut up,” Lillian said in a fierce undertone.
“—that my sister is going to break her neck,” Daisy finished, returning Lillian’s glare with one of her own.
Annabelle looked troubled by the information. “Lillian, dear—”
“I have to go,” Lillian said curtly. “I don’t want to be late.”
“I know for a fact that Lord Westcliff’s jumping course is not appropriate for a novice.”
“I’m not a novice,” Lillian said through gritted teeth.
“There are some difficult jumps, with stiff bars at the top. Simon—that is, Mr. Hunt—took me through the course not long after it was built, and counseled me on how to approach the various jumps, and even then, it was very difficult. And if your riding position isn’t perfect, you can interfere with the free movement of the horse’s head and neck, and—”
“I’ll be fine,” Lillian interrupted coolly. “Heavens, Annabelle, I never knew you could be such a wet goose.”
Inured by now to the sharpness of Lillian’s tongue, Annabelle studied her defiant face. “Why is it necessary that you endanger yourself?”
“You should know by now that I never back down from a challenge.”
“And that is an admirable quality, dear,” came Annabelle’s smooth reply. “Unless you’re applying it to a pointless exercise.”
It was the closest to an argument that they had ever come. “Look,” Lillian said impatiently, “if I fall, you can give me a complete rake-down, and I’ll listen to every word. But no one is going to stop me from riding today…and therefore the only pointless exercise is for you to wag your jaw about it.”
Turning, she strode away, while she heard Annabelle’s exasperated exclamation behind her, and Daisy’s indistinct but resigned murmur, “…after all, it’s her neck to break…”
After Lillian’s departure, Daisy looked at Annabelle with an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry. She didn’t mean to sound sharp. You know how she is.”
